Trio
by MizuneMinamiki
Summary: Living in a world with no government where nothing is a crime can be hard. Upon coming across two teens getting beaten in an alleyway, twelve-year-old Oliver will learn that the hard way. (James and Jamie - Oliver's bird and his genderbend - are human in this fic)


_**My second new story!:D **_

_**So this one is ALSO based off a blog, the AskVocaloidOliver blog. Because it's really awesome, and stuff. So the human versions of James and Jamie (their designs) come straight from that blog. Same with Oliver's personality. **_

_**The link is at the bottom of my profile. Go harass Oliver about eating tarantulas. It's funny. XD**_

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_**WARNING! ****PLEASE READ! This is Rated T for the slight romantic moments that may occur in the future, as well as the SLIGHT DESCRIPTION OF THE AFTER EFFECTS OF RAPE IN THIS CHAPTER. I dunno, just thought this would be a nice thing to give a warning for.**_

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**Prologue.**

"So what yer sayin' is…" He broke off to spit at the concrete, a rough gray surface that would soon be heavily spattered with thick crimson liquid. His strong fingers coiled around the teen's slender wrist, the pressure almost enough to make the young boy cry out in protest, but he bit down on the inside of his cheek until he could feel blood pooling on his tongue to keep himself from giving his bully such satisfaction. The man leaned forward with an arrogant smirk, an intense hatred burning in his eyes. His breath reeked of stale cigarettes as he grumbled out, "…you ain't got the money?"

"No, sir." The boy blinked up at him with big, innocent brown eyes that were full of courage, strength, and he straightened up as he spoke to the much taller man. Not many people would try to remain calm in a situation such as this; they all knew the penalty of getting on someone's bad side. But the boy refused to let anyone see how it affected him; his voice remained as strong as ever, unwavering even when looking death square in the eyes. "I won't be able to pay you back until next week."

"I've done told you that I'm not offering any more extensions. You either pay up now or suffer the consequences," the man snarled, his gaze one of fierce hatred, and it was clear right then and there that he was intent on cold-blooded murder, no matter what the risks.

But were there even such things as_ risks_ anymore?

Under normal circumstances, a man twenty-some years old would never threaten a boy who was just straining to reach sixteen. Not only would it destroy the honor that a man should be striving to keep, but it would also be highly frowned upon in society. Normally, people would hear the quarrel and report it to the police so they – the ones who were supposed to keep order amongst the people – could put a stop to pointless violence.

But, in a world with no government – where all people became savages to get what they needed to survive – it was all perfectly okay: murder, rape, stealing, trespassing – hell, the sky was the limit!

The teenager would've moved away from his tormentor, but the man had already forced him up against the alleyway's brick wall to keep him from squirming free, and the rough action caused a bolt of pain to course up his spine. The man's other hand was clenched into a tight fist, his eyes lit with a cruel fire. His teeth were gritted together, every facial muscle tightened so that his expression was contorted into one nothing short of pure malice. He brought his knee up to the boy's stomach in a blow that drove the breath from the brave teenager.

"I'm getting sick of your punk-ass ways, James," the man growled as he repeated the kick, even harder this time.

James gasped, the breath hitching in his throat as his hands broke free from the man's hold to wrap around himself almost like a hug, as though such a pathetic action would be enough to take away the pain that coursed through his veins with every beat of his heart. Through his violent coughs, James glared up at the man defiantly, but his hacking was silenced almost immediately by two large hands wrapping around his throat.

Big fingers pressed against his skin, constricting the airway, cutting off his path to sweet, sweet oxygen. The blood pounded in his ears, pressure building up to an almost indescribable pain, accompanied with some kind of numbness. James' mouth opened and closed as though he were a fish out of water; even his gasps and coughs were incoherent. His small hands went up to his throat, his jagged and ripped nails scrabbling against his bully's skin in a desperate attempt to make it go away – make the suffocation, the pain, the torture to just all go away...

And then it all disappeared with a feminine grunt, followed by an astonished howl from the man who had been trying to kill him.

James fell to his knees, his hands flying up to his throat so that his fingers could brush over the spot where blackish bruises were already forming on his tanned skin. Even such a sensitive touch made him wince in pain, but he couldn't afford to worry about himself anymore; he feared for the girl who had jumped onto the husky man's back to save his life. She could easily pass as his twin - with the same messy black-and-yellow hair and deep brown eyes - but they were in no way related. Though, they enjoyed dressing alike in stripes and a vest - a unique look that made them recognizable to both enemies and allies.

Together, they were a feared duo in the town, but only to those who were not prepared for the fight of their lives.

This man had shown up with the intention to kill the pair, whether he got the money he was owed or not.

She clung to the man, her arms wrapped around his neck while she hung off his back as though that would keep him occupied enough. James stayed where he was in shock, watching her through wide eyes until, at last, the man flung her off him and sent her flying to the ground next to him. Her back thudded hard against the concrete, and her head did, too. But after a long, drawn out moan of pain, she weakly sat up.

"Jamie, didn't I tell you to stay back?" the boy asked softly, ignoring their imminent danger and placing a hand on her back to help her stay upright.

"Ngh..." She pressed a palm to her forehead, turning to look at him with a weak smile. Her eyes still gleamed with the usual, daredevil attitude they'd always had. "What, and let you have all the fun?" But Jamie's attempt at a light-hearted attitude disappeared almost immediately when the man approached them with a dark laugh, his shadow looming over the both of them.

"Well, boys, it looks like we've finally got these stupid street-rats," the man purred, cracking his knuckles. His eyes glimmered down at the pair with cruel amusement while two more men - one, fairly short, though he had tattoos and piercings on his face that made him appear more evil than he probably was, while the other man was much taller, but also too lanky too seem like much of a threat. But the way they smirked, the way their gazes glowed with a hunger for blood and violence made them seem otherwise. "I think I know of some things we can do to make them pay for _all_ the hell they've put us through. Starting with_ Princess_ there."

Jamie - who had brought her knees up to her chest and leaned back against the wall - only narrowed her eyes defiantly and closed her legs as though she had the perfect thought in mind as to what they would do.

James, on the other hand, thought she was strong for not getting up and trying to retreat even after their threats - threats they were quite intent on keeping. But, then again, if she were to try to get away, they'd catch her and make things worse. He turned to look at her with concern written all over his face, and his hand tentatively touched her own. To the men approaching them, it seemed like a reassuring gesture that would mean nothing once they were through with them.

But to the duo, it was entirely different.

She looked at the boy sitting next to her with a smirk and nodded her head once. Jamie flicked her wrist backwards after she lifted her arm, and the subtle action was enough to make her concealed knife slip right through her sleeve and into her hand. Her fingers coiled around the handle quickly before it could fall to the ground, the effect of much practice. She was up on her feet in an instant - however, she wobbled a bit, and that worried James.

He got to his feet, too, but he didn't have much of a weapon. He'd have to take on those guys with his bare hands, even though he was sure he'd lose in any fight with them.

"Aww. Look at that, fellas," the first man - whose name James seemed to recall as Al - sneered as he turned around to look at his partners. "They're gonna try to fight us. Ain't that precious?" He turned back to James and smiled, showing off his nasty yellowing teeth. "You see, James, nothing you do will protect yourself, or your little girlfriend."

"I'm not his girlfriend," Jamie spat venomously as she launched for the big man. She swept the knife towards his chest, but he dodged her easily. The tattooed man quickly came up behind her to wrap his arms around her neck and held her still; however, despite being held down in one spot, she continued to scream and thrash, to kick her feet and swing her arms in hope of cutting someone with the blade she refused to drop even though the man was slowly choking the life out of her.

James wasn't going to stand there and watch his best friend get picked on. Without a second thought, he flung himself at the man who was holding her back, swiping him so hard and so quick that all three of them went flying to the ground. Jamie scrambled from the enemy's grip, but she didn't have the time to stand up before Al was looming over her.

"My, you like to _squirm_, don't you?" he purred.

With a grunt, Jamie kicked her leg up _hard_, nailing him between the legs in a blow so painful that even James winced from where he had been watching out of the corner of his eye. James had pinned the tattooed man down, and from the looks of it, the guy didn't seem like he would be too much trouble. Blood thickly coated the man's hair, and it pooled on the concrete beneath him. Clearly, when James had thrown him to the ground, the man had hit his head hard enough to at least knock him out. Maybe even kill him.

James didn't feel like wasting his time on such trivial things. He got to his feet just in time to step in front of Jamie - who was still on the ground, inching away from Al, whose face was red with rage at her actions.

Al and his partner were closing in on the two teenagers quickly - too quickly. Jamie had finally gotten up and was backing up against the wall next to James, her eyes still just as feisty despite the fact that there might be no hope for them. She had reached for James' hand, squeezing it firmly for a burst of reassurance and strength that would help her get through those last minutes. She knew they would win; she had faith. They were _the _duo; they _had_ to win.

When Al reached forward, he moved faster than lightning, quickly snatching her by the wrists - sending the knife she'd been relying on as protection clattering to the ground. He slammed her back against the brick, and her head thumped against it painfully; it was the second time she'd been struck in the back of the head, and she could already feel the hot, sticky blood dripping down her neck. She knew that she was definitely in danger of some kind of concussion; to be quite honest with herself, Jamie wasn't even sure how she was still conscious.

James had been quickly attacked by the other guy, but - as James was a boy, and they couldn't have much _fun _with him - he was quickly thrown to the ground and brought into a constant battle, the both of them rolling around with punches flying.

Jamie grunted in protest as the man's hands roughly roamed across her body, only to stop at her hips and grip them firmly. He leaned forward with a cruel smile.

"You're in for a very rude awakening, sweetheart," he mumbled against her neck.

"Hey!"

Jamie's mind led her to believe that James had been the one protesting, so when she saw a little blond kid running up to them, she was shocked. Her gaze rested on the young boy - his hair tousled and his gold eyes bright, however they shone with concern. The kid flung himself against Al, his hands balled into tiny fists that pounded the taller man's side.

"Y-You can't do that, Mister!" he cried pathetically, tears pouring down his cheeks. "Mommy always told me that you have to be nice to get places in life!"

Al didn't seem fazed by the kid's efforts in the least. "Oi, take care of this nuisance."

The man James had been fighting with suddenly flung him against a metal trash can; James shrieked in surprise as the lid fell off and clanked loudly on the ground, and the contents in the can spilled all over him as it toppled over as well. James' opponent made his way over to the short blond boy and pulled him off Al by his hair.

"No! No! Lemme go! Mommy will hurt you for this! She knows when people hurt me! She'll find you!" The kid screamed and thrashed in the man's grip, but it didn't stop him from sneering at him as he padded towards the open dumpster a few yards away.

He lifted the boy up onto his shoulder, and without a second thought - even through the kid's desperate screams and pleas for help - he flung the young boy in. The kid crashed against the walls of the dumpster with a loud, dull echo, his leg partially hanging out over the top at the moment the lid fell closed. A loud cry was the last thing heard of the little boy, along with the sound of shattering glass.

James didn't know what to do at that point. If he were to get up, he knew would get hurt, even killed. He'd already lost hope in winning that battle. He looked dead already, lying there slumped against the trash can and covered mostly in garbage. He could pretend he had either passed out or had died, and that would get _him_ out of the possibility of getting hurt more.

But...he had to listen...

Jamie's screams echoed in the air, her choked sobs filling his heart with pain. "James?! N-No, you can't be..." She screamed again, only to be silenced by a loud _slap_, and that caused silent tears to roll down James' cheeks.

"Shut up and pay attention to _me_."

"No!" Jamie screamed again, louder and more distressed. "Please, James! N-N-_nahhh_...No! Y-You can't...You can't leave me alone! _James!_"

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James opened his eyes only when he was sure they were gone. He slowly turned his head in Jamie's direction to see her lying on the ground, half-clothed and covered in bruises. With shaking hands, James brushed the slimy garbage that had fallen to cover his body aside, and he moved as quietly as he could, too afraid to make noise for fear that the men would hear them and come back to do away with them - for certain, that time.

His gaze rested on his female companion. He couldn't even bring himself to move for the several long moments that he stared at her with pity in his eyes, tears pouring down his cheeks. His heart had sunk in his chest; it felt like there was a hole there, like he was unable to feel happiness anymore. Jamie's slender form was bruised and bloodied; her vest was lying on the ground, and her shirt had been sliced open over her chest. She wasn't clothed in any way from the waist down, but her legs were covered in red and milky-white.

The only thought running through his mind was that he was such a failure. He had sat there and listened to them harm her when he was perfectly capable of doing something to put a stop to it.

James knew that he deserved to be shot for such a terrible, cowardly action.

Either way, he knew she was alive. He heard the boys complaining about how she passed out, and they had left her there because she '_wouldn't be any danger with James dead, especially after getting beat up that way_.'

James stood up on wobbly legs and padded over to her, kneeling down next to her. His fingers moved up to her tear-stained cheek to push some of her tangled black bangs from her face. The gentle action made him feel slightly better; at least she would still know kindness after such a terrible thing.

Jamie's eyes fluttered open, but she was clearly having a hard time focusing her gaze on him. She squinted, though her eyelids drooped heavily as she made a small "_mmm..._" sound in acknowledgement to him. Her lips tilted upward slightly, and when she spoke, her voice cracked from all the screaming and crying she'd been doing. "J-James...? You're alive..." It was more of a statement than a question, as though she were trying to assure herself that he was really there, as though she were looking for _him _to agree with her.

"Yes..." James offered a smile, though tears poured from his eyes. "I-I'm so sorry..."

"Ngh, don't be." Jamie placed her hands down on the ground and struggled to lift herself up, only to grunt in pain and shake her head to accept the fact that she wouldn't be moving. She sighed in defeat. "Don't look at me when I'm like this, James. I feel so pathetic."

"I'm pathetic one," he murmured. "I faked dead and let you get hurt..."

"You did what you had to. I would've done the same thing," she insisted, turning away from him.

James shook his head with a roll of his eyes. Just like her, to act as though she'd never just been victim to such horrible actions. "Don't lie to me. You would've gone down fighting, just like you did this time."

Jamie looked back at him with wide eyes. The walls of her façade came crumbling down - she couldn't hold in the agony, the physical and emotional trauma she was feeling, anymore. Her lips quivered, and she quickly wrapped her arms around him to pull him to her in a hug. "I-It hurts so bad!" she wailed, her fingers digging into his back as she tried to make sure he wouldn't pull away. James carefully placed his hands on her, not wanting to cause her more pain than she already felt.

Her sickening whimpers and sobs were the only things that could be heard for the next several, long minutes. She shook against him, quivering with the heart-wrenching sniffles that sent shivers wracking her body. Her fresh, wet tears stained his grimy shirt. He felt bad for her - because the Jamie he knew would never do such a thing as cry in public, especially not in front of him. She was always set on being the tough girl, the tomboy, the one who could take even the worst torture without having a breakdown.

Now, she was proven wrong.

James forgot about the fact that bruises must have been covering her back and chest, and he clutched her to him so tight that he could tell she almost couldn't breathe. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, sighing against her skin in relief. She was alive...that was what mattered.

"I..." She snickered in an attempt to lighten the mood. "I can promise you I'll never be having sex."

The teenage boy couldn't help but chortle at that comment. "You're such an idiot."

"Nah..." Jamie sniffled and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. "I...I'm being serious. J-James..." She tilted her head to one side as she pulled back to meet his gaze. Her eyes were still glassy with pain, but this time, there was concern present. "Th-that kid...?"

It took James a moment to figure out what the heck she was talking about, but he remembered. He remembered the heavy garbage can lid collapsed on the little boy's leg. He remembered his desperate screams and cries for his mother.

He must've had a haunted look in his eyes because Jamie weakly touched his shoulder. "I-Is he okay...?"

"I...don't know." James stared at her for a moment as though silently asking for permission to leave her alone for a minute. Understanding, Jamie gave him a small nod, and James rose to his feet and bounded in the direction of the dumpster. As he neared, he swore he could hear the sounds of near-silent whimpering. James stood up on his tiptoes and pushed the lid upwards so that it fell to the other side, and he placed his hands on the edge of the grubby dumpster so that he could see into it.

The little boy was curled into a ball, blood staining his leg and his face. He looked up at James in fear, though there was definitely curiosity there as well.

James extended his hand for the kid to take. "C'mon," he tried softly, "I won't hurt you."

The boy sniffled. "Y-You were the one fighting those meanies, weren't you?" the kid asked quietly. One of his eyes were closed, blood dripping from his forehead.

James chuckled softly and waved his hand a bit. "Yes, I was. And they're gone now, so you can come out, okay?"

The kid only stared at him.

"What's your name?"

"Mommy told me not to talk to strangers."

"Well, you just tried to fight them a little bit ago," James said pointedly. His smile softened; his only priority was to get the kid out so that Jamie could see that he was okay. Then maybe the pair could finally head back to their cabin - after they dropped the injured blond off back home, of course. "That was very brave, you know."

"Well, I couldn't let them get away with it," he mumbled back, averting his gaze. "M-Mommy always said fighting was bad. She said I had to put a stop to it." He squeezed his eye shut. "But I can't. I'm too small."

James ignored the kid's last comment and instead brought up an offer that might get him out of the dumpster. "Where's your mother? We can go find her, you know."

The blond boy perked up instantaneously. "R-Really? Y-You'd do that?"

"Sure." James nodded and waved his hand one more time. "Come on; I'll pull you out."

He stared at James' hand blankly for several long seconds before he finally reached forward to take it. His hand was tiny, James noted, and he smiled as he tugged the kid up to his feet and out of the shadows of the dumpster where he'd been laying. Upon getting in the light, James could see the reason why the boy had his eye closed.

Glass.

Tiny shards of it, sticking from the skin on his forehead and left eye.

James couldn't help but make a comment to the kid about it, to which the young boy only shrugged.

"I've already cried all my tears. Mommy said crying shows weakness, anyway. She says I'll be a big, strong man one day if I don't cry any!" the kid boasted, a big smile spread across his face.

James chuckled. "Of course. Now, if I hold you like this..." He slipped his arms around the kid, beneath his armpits to get a good grip. "...will it hurt?"

"No," the kid replied firmly, "It's just my leg and my eye, really."

James nodded and began to lift the kid as best as he could; the teenager already knew that he certainly wasn't the strongest boy ever, but he could get by. Besides, he managed to life the little blond kid out pretty well, setting him down carefully on the ground. He noticed that the blond kid's leg was lifted slightly in the air to keep his foot from touching the ground, and blood and scrapes covered his skin.

"Are you able to walk?" he asked softly.

"Eh, sort of. I-It hurts, though..."

James placed a hand on the kid's shoulder and turned to look at Jamie, who had resituated herself where she was against the wall, so that her legs were crossed to effectively cover herself. The little boy stared in shock at her.

"I-Is she okay?"

"Oh, she's fine." James ruffled the boy's hair. "Her name's Jamie. She's really strong, so don't worry about her," James told him. "I'm James. And you are...?"

"Oliver." The kid blinked his one good eye. "Y-You'll help me find Mommy?"

"Of course. But we'll have to wait until tomorrow." James glanced down at him. "We'll have to get your leg treated, and Jamie needs to rest."

Oliver stared up at him with wide eyes, as though he wasn't sure whether or not he should believe the teenage boy. But after a little while, he nodded and gave a faint smile. "O-Okay..."

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_**Well, there's that. It turned out a lot longer than I meant for it to. I actually wanted this to be a short introduction of how they met, and then do a timeskip to next chapter after they'd gotten adjusted to each other. But now I'm thinking that maybe I should just make this whole story about Oliver getting used to James and Jamie?**_

_**Thoughts?**_

_**Thanks for reading!**_

_**(P.s This chapter WILL be re-written. Oliver needs to suffer more, and I rushed at the end.)**_

_**(:Mizune**_


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